Kandra: “Hark! The Hymn Has Been Re-Written!”

Deacon Greg Kandra is again bemoaning alterations to Christmas carol texts over at Aleteia: Hark! The Hymn Has Been Re-Written!

Much of the time there is a price to pay for altering hymn texts – sometimes bigger, sometimes smaller. A judgment is involved whether the price is worth the gains in another department. We live in a world where goods often enough compete with each other.

And of course it’s possible that an alteration is an improvement in every category – poetic beauty, theological profundity, inclusiveness, and so forth.

And I hope everyone knows that hymn text have been altered throughout history – no one I know sings the original “Hark! How All the Welkin Rings” today. Charles Wesley changed his own texts throughout his life, and someone has been changing some familiar texts all the way down the centuries.

But still. Some changes are infelicitous and could have been handled differently. It’s not an exact science, but some decisions are more defensible than others on theological and artistic grounds.

Here is a summary of the changes Deacon Kendra discusses – the original and what it became. Let’s have a good Pray Tell discussion – what do you think works best in these changes, and what perhaps could have been handled in another way?

(And it should go without saying, but: please, everyone, keep it charitable and respectful. We’re talking about the birth of our loving Savior, for heaven’s sake!)

1. “Good Christian Men, Rejoice” to “Good Christian Friends, Rejoice.”

2. “Peace on the earth, good will to men” to “Peace on the earth, good will to all.” (from “It Came upon the Midnight Clear.”

3. “Pleased, as man, with men to dwell / Jesus, our Emmanuel!” to “Pleased, as man with us to dwell / Jesus, our Emmanuel!” (from “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing)

4. “Mild he lays his glory by / Born that man no more may die /Born to raise the sons of earth / Born to give them second birth.” to “Mild he lays his glory by / Born that we no more may die /Born to raise us from the earth / Born to give us second birth.” (from “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing)

Be sure to look at Kendra’s commentary – he raises some good points, but I trust that not everyone will agree with all of them.


53 thoughts on “Kandra: “Hark! The Hymn Has Been Re-Written!”

  1. It happens at the directive of the Right, too. I think of the edit on Laurence Rosania’s perfectly good communion song “The Supper of the Lord,” and how a number of Catholics went bonkers because “here in bread and wine” was somehow a denial of the Real Presence.

    Face it: we live in an era where literalism and accuracy has taken root, often supplanting poetic texts with the occasionally clunky.

    The good deacon thinks inclusive language is the worst offense. I disagree. I think “clunky” is the greater danger.

    As for the complaint of switching from third person to first person plural, don’t we get enough celebrities speaking of themselves in the third person?

    1. I find examples 3 and 4 to be very good comparisons. In #3, the poetry is in “men” following immediately on the tail of “man,” drawing us into to incarnation in a beautiful way, where the switch to “us” takes a literal approach that downplays the beautiful wording. But, I only noticed this at Christmas because I sang the altered text and thought about how much nicer the “man/men” combination is (i.e. I only observed it in absence).

      In #4, however, the use of the masculine is not integral to the poetic sounds (though the changes do affect the grammatical person). In fact, it may be an improvement, if it is done carefully, to make it more personal by putting it into the second person as opposed to the third (unless by changing these words we shift randomly between grammatical persons; I don’t know if that’s the case).

      @Todd Flowerday:
      I have heard the argument made that the idea with the hymns that focus on bread, wine, and table do not so much deny the Real Presence, but rather downplay it in a time when we need to have a better appreciation of it, in practice, that is, and not simply in theory. The argument goes that because of that, it is counter-productive to persist in singing meal-focused hymns to the detriment of a full Eucharistic doctrine. I must admit that I agree, to the extent that I see hymns that refer to the Eucharist as seemingly “merely” bread and wine, without acknowledging the fact that they only appear that way, but cannot be spoken of as if they are still bread and wine. Still, it is worth emphasizing both aspects, table and altar/sacrifice, so that the Eucharistic doctrine is truly full.

      1. @Conor Cook:
        “… the idea with the hymns that focus on bread, wine, and table do not so much deny the Real Presence, but rather downplay it…”
        Sorry, but this is completely, totally, and entirely mistaken. I do not know of any Catholic theologian of any repute on planet Earth who wants to downplay the Real Presence. The best theologians, rather, want to deepen it, put it in its proper context (again), relate it again to the rest of Christ’s life and mission (like it should be), and reconnect it to the conversion of life and ethical response of the recipient (which is the whole point). People who don’t get any of this think it’s somehow a stronger faith in the Real Presence to focus on it in isolation and look for magic slogans supposedly ensuring orthodoxy. The people using “bread language” (like St. Paul does, for heaven’s sake) are seeking to renew our understanding of the Real Presence.

        But let’s not go down this rabbit hole. The solution to this issue is at once simple and time-intensive: go read 10 or 30 good recent books on Eucharistic theology and sacramental theology. Oh, and also let go of unfounded fear and suspicion!

        One of the limits of the blogosphere is that misinformation is rampant, and the well-intentioned enthusiasm of some people for orthodoxy just feeds the cycle of misunderstanding, which ends up being divisive and impedes the renewal of the liturgy we should be working for.

        I’m asking us not to go down this rabbit hole because we can’t begin to treat the issue adequately in this place. The right place is those 10 or 30 books.

        Back to the Christmas carols!


      2. @Anthony Ruff, OSB:
        Father, without going further down the hole, please allow me to reply that the whole of my post goes beyond the quoted portion above and hopefully makes clear the inclusive position I intend to hold. I also wish to point out that a hymnist does not immediately equal a theologian, though I hope that there is mutual dependency there.

        Thank you for your clear defense of a full understanding of the Real Presence. I apologize for appearing to argue for a limited one.

      3. @Conor Cook:

        I do not think changing “Born to raise the sons of earth” to “Born to raise us from the earth” in no. 4 is an improvement. The first wording refers to the raise of status – the divinization – of human beings. The second sounds like some Hal Lindsey-ish apocalyptic scenario. GIA’s wording for this phrase preserves the notion of divinization while being inclusive: born to raise each child of earth. My recollection is that such wording is also used in other recently published hymnals. (I am away from my books, so I cannot check this out.)

      4. @Conor Cook:
        I appreciate your comment about the parallelism in “man with men” in item 3. I agree that something is lost in this change.

        One the other hand, I really like the use of “us” because it echoes the reference to “God with us.” Therefore, my preference is to sing “one with us” in this place. It seems to me that this is the central element of the incarnation; after all, Jesus didn’t come to earth a full grown “man.”

  2. Back in the early eighties I consulted with some choir members about altering the “pleased as man with man to dwell” text. One suggestion that never gained any traction was “pleased as punch with us to dwell.” I suppose it’s good to know that people of good will still struggle with the balance among poetry, theology, and inclusiveness, but I remember hoping at the time that inclusive language would have become an accepted part of our worship experience thirty years hence.

  3. I actually find the changes made back in the eighteenth century a theological impoverishment: the loss of the final two stanzas, and the replacement of references to nature with ‘herald angels’:
    The theological balance of the hymn was quite changed.

    For me the most egregious piece of US tampering with Wesley comes in my favourite hymn. The original runs:

    Jesus, Thou art all compassion;
    Pure, unbounded love Thou art;
    Visit us with Thy salvation,
    Enter every trembling heart.

    GIA Worship sees fit to correct this to:

    Jesus, source of all compassion,
    Love unbounded, love all pure:
    Visit us with your salvation,
    Let your love in us endure.

    When subjected to this, I am tempted to behave very badly by singing the proper words very loudly.

    1. @Philip Endean:
      I can appreciate a modern sensibility that desires to avoid gender-exclusive language, but why the insistence that people can’t handle archaic pronouns and constructions? Is it simply that it’s not in “our own” usage? I imagine people appreciate the opportunity to hear and speak poetry that is not simply mundane and daily, but creates a distinct aural space.

    2. @Philip Endean:
      I’m with Philip Endean on this one (#5). Removing thee and thy and thou does not seem necessary and frequently the results are an impoverishment.

      Why is no one removing them from the Our Father or the Hail Mary, if they represent a barrier to comprehension?

      1. @Rita Ferrone @21:

        They tried to remove many of them 45 years ago (I vividly remember the befuddlement and even laughter and sarcasm) when we were supposed to learn all the new versions of the prayers we learned before First Communion during our preparation for Confirmation. Learned and promptly forgotten.

        Ridding old texts of thee/thou/thy/thine et cet. is often unfruitful. I wouldn’t write new texts with them normally (that said, they offer a LOT more rhyming possibilities for English that is relatively lacking in common words ending in vowels ….)

        Just this weekend, I received an email from a friend who is an organist whose pastor will not allow Angels We Have Heard On High to be programmed because…the refrain is in Latin. I thought that kind of Latin-phobia had finally gone the way of the dodo bird. (On a related note: One thing that’s lovely about using the vernacular is that people already know the meaning of the Ordinary in Latin….)

  4. When I read comments like the last line in Deacon Kandra’s article about people being “too stupid to know that the word ‘man’ doesn’t always mean a human being with testicles,” I realize that we are dealing with someone who has an incomplete understanding about how language works. However multivalent a word such as “man” may be, its primary meaning always registers whenever it is used. So one of the ideas behind using inclusive language in worship is to avoid using words whose primary referent is exclusive (at least when a suitable substitute is available) out of deference to those who might be excluded and as a way of heightening awareness in others that some in their midst are hurting. It has nothing to do with stupidity and everything to do with the Christian virtue of charity. The arguments are more nuanced than I have time to reproduce here, but I hope you get the idea.

    1. @Mike Novak:
      I do not mean to refute your point, because I agree with the idea of Christian charity as a means of welcoming and building up. I do want to point out that this Christian charity must be accompanied by a strengthening of the Christian understanding of sexuality, so that by our inclusive language we do not give the impression of a change in theology. The trick is that by changing the language, especially when we are aware of the change, like the way that “man” registers the exclusive meaning in any use, we don’t register a dismissal of the complementarity of the sexes. By the act of changing the language, as opposed to allowing the older language to exist beside new compositions that contain the inclusive language, we risk the loss of a depth of understanding. In all of this, however, education is paramount. We can’t make these nuanced distinctions without it.

      Edit: but I agree that we must be aware of the gendered implications of language, even if for the sake of the poetry, we want to avoid them

  5. Whatever happened to the ENTRY NUMBER of an earlier comment being noted when someone makes a later reply? My comment at no. 12 was replying to Conor Cook at no. 4.

    1. @Fr. Ron Krisman:
      to #13:
      The tech department reminded me that we had to change it to NOT refer to numbers because when comments are removed (and unfortunately, some have to be and we insist on that prerogative), it refers to the wrong numbers. So the person replying has to write in the number – as I did here (“#13”). Sorry about it, but I think it’s better this way.

  6. For better or for worse, hymns have been “rewritten” as long as there have been hymns. Like others before him, Kandra seem struck by this entirely unremarkable phenomenon.

  7. Perhaps another question might be: who makes these changes? Hymnal editors are responsible, either themselves or delegating it to someone. My sense would be that poets with strong theological sensibilities are better entrusted with this. Not every hymnal editor is either a poet or a theologian. Someone like Genevieve Glen is both, and it would be interesting to see what she or someone of her abilities would do if a publisher decided to keep the familiar verse one, but offer totally new verses of beloved Christmas songs. Perhaps with modern themes woven in: mercy, inclusiveness, and perhaps even prudence.

    Last observation: who would have thought a century ago than a Roman Catholic deacon would be so defensive of Wesleyan hymnody against Catholic editors?

    1. @Todd Flowerday:
      to # 15

      Hymnal editorial committees always or almost always contain members with the poetic and theological sensibilities to which you refer.

      What no one contributing to this discussion has mentioned is the fact that hymnal committees borrow from the work of other hymnal committees. Almost none of the changes in hymn texts found in GIA hymnals over the past 40 years originated in a GIA hymnal. But, agreeing with you, Todd, even if a hymnal committee borrows the work of some other hymnal committee, the former must still take responsibility for that change of text.

      @Jeff Rexhausen:
      to # 19

      “Pleased as one with us to dwell” is a good suggestion.

  8. The use of male terms in preference to female, is because men have been — for ages — considered more representative of the human race than women are.

    From this mindset comes “the woman question” and arguments about “the proper role of women” and the quest to understand “the feminine genius” and the phenomenon of nattering on about how “we need women in the church” — as though, somehow, there are people… and then there are … women. Men, who have never been on the receiving end of this kind of treatment, and who blithely say it doesn’t matter, are lacking the experience, perhaps, of being the permanent “other.”

    Not every verbal change is felicitous, and some are unnecessary, and altering language doesn’t solve all problems. But for those who don’t understand that behind the (otherwise arbitrary) selection of the male to represent the human race stands this huge elephant in the living room, I think that the question of who is “too stupid” has to be answered “The one who doesn’t get why this is an issue.”

  9. Cross-posting a comment on this I made at Todd’s blog:

    Changing lyrics on Christmas carols that have achieved canonical status (of all the hymns in the repertoire, Christmas carols are most likely to fall into that category) in the name of [here insert Value N] can come at the cost of participation. That is, if a carol text is well remembered, people will sing what they remember more than what’s printed – and that can (but will not necessarily) produce confusion in the pews (it depends on pewsitters’ confidence, which seems to vary considerably). (I have been in communities where this also produced the progressive equivalent (as in overtly objecting someone’s failure to get with the new program) of the traddie pewsitter who writes a nasty note to the unveiled woman in front of her; both reactions should be suppressed….)

    Changing lyrics used to be easier in the generations before copyright triumphed over much older church praxis.

    It does require a deft and lucid touch, which many people think they have – and they are more often wrong than right about that.

    Above all, if you’re going to do it, be prepared to receive the criticism for it without getting defensive. If you’re not ready for that, don’t bother. Too many people want to have the power to change things without being accountable for it.

  10. In the scrum in Deacon Kandra’s FB stream last year, I pointed out that the original text (a tangle of Latin and German) of “Good Christian Men…” doesn’t contain any word that you could translate as “men” (or “friends” for that matter) so removing the added exclusive language certainly is inflicting no injury on the original.

    I wish in this case the choice had been made to go back to the original text and stick with both the macaronic form and the Latin and work toward a sprightly translation of the German into English. It would serve the purpose of removing the problematic language, and be different enough that people would have to look at the text to sing it, so you wouldn’t have the various texts floating around a single assembly.

    In dulci jubilo,
    nun singet und seid froh!
    Unsers Herzens Wonne
    leit in præsepio
    und leuchtet als die Sonne
    matris in gremio.
    Alpha es et O.

  11. It is worthy of note that pop versions played on the radio almost always still use the original lyrics of these songs. Apparently hymnal writers have more exacting standards than Jewel or Faith Hill or Carrie Underwood.

  12. Rita Ferrone : Men, who have never been on the receiving end of this kind of treatment, and who blithely say it doesn’t matter, are lacking the experience, perhaps, of being the permanent “other.”

    I think this is precisely right. At least in my case, I never ‘got’ the need for inclusive language (except maybe as a pragmatic means of avoiding annoying people) until I became foreign. Specifically, it was shortly after migrating as a young adult and hearing an invitation to pray for “our country” and realizing that the language just defined me out of the praying “us,” and then suddenly realizing that gender-exclusive language does precisely the same thing.

    The whole thing gets me wondering how we can help the privileged encounter a modicum of alterity, if for no other reason than to notice their normal-privelege. (*Not* claiming this is a fully realized to task for me either).

    1. @Adam Booth, C.S.C., #27:
      While not exactly the most exotic locale for an American (“two countries separated by a common language”), being asked to pray for England, especially on Nov. 11, made me feel distinctly non-other. I think the experience was similar for my wife in Bolivia. She certainly felt like an outsider in many things, but through the common Catholic faith, she was one with them.

      Changing hymns to more inclusive language is a good way to bring this element out, but most important is to be sure that the faith that is expressed is the same faith across the world, across time, and between the realms.

  13. Thanks Rita for your comments in #17. I thought going in that the point was about changing male specific pronouns to something more inclusive. Rita seems to be the only one to focus on this (and Conor, briefly–edit: and some others too, sorry.). I couldn’t agree more. Yes, I get the point that we should be able to understand the historical nature of the texts, and silently translate in our minds as we sing the “men” and “man” and “he” and “sons” to golly women as well–but isn’t that even more awkward than merely changing these pronouns to say what we actually mean and have always meant straight out? In most cases these changes are fairly easy and don’t damage the poetry of the texts, if a little care is taken. In some cases these changes might result in clunkers. Maybe then we can take the magnanimous approach, sigh and say, well, that’s how it was done back then; we know that women were meant too. Just not out loud.

    Again, let’s say what we mean: all people, not just “men”, are saved by Christ etc.

  14. An aside, I believe Aleteia is the new Patheos. Catholic bloggers are paid per hits. Not accusing Deacon Kandra of this, but certain memes stir the pot more effectively with their conservative audience – anything that addresses inclusivity or the lack thereof generates lots of interest.

  15. I haven’t read all the comments but I do support changes in older hymn texts. Since many of us that have posted are older and will one day have to let go I think it would be very interesting to ask high school age youth, perhaps a confirmation class, what they think – which versions of these examples make sense to you?

  16. I have enjoyed this conversation but can’t help adding my father’s comment, “If the King James was good enough for Paul, it is good enough for me!”

    Funny, we have to “improve upon” the text of the hymns to make them inclusive but we insist on not correcting the over-sweet, Hallmark card, bucolic image that so many carols present even when we know it is literally and factually incorrect. (Worse, our changes are often at total odds to our theologies.)

    The image most have on Epiphany Sunday has more to do with a Christmas Card and “We Three Kings” than the biblical text.

    At least “Away in a Manger” has the first bit right: there was “no crib for a bed” …. it goes downhill from that point forward unfortunately.

    1. @Jim McKay:
      I seriously doubt that. The *meaning* of the current wording is not particularly unclear; there is an issue of *usage* more than meaning with it. It echoes Philippians 2 pretty well for so few words. The “one” in “pleased as one with us to dwell” is a head-scratcher that gets resolved almost entirely on knowing what it’s replacing. It’s neither lucid nor deft.

      “God enfleshed with us to dwell” is clearer, though not deft. It’s more a reference to John 1 than Philippians 2. It shifts the center of gravity of the line.

      And, in either rewording case, how likely is it to resonate liminally in the imagination at least as well as the current wording?

      1. @Karl Liam Saur:

        “Pleased, as man, with man to dwell” is anything but clear. “as man” modifies either pleased or dwell. Or both, in a poetic manner that is deft but not lucid. Man is used twice, once to refer to the infant and again to refer to us, both times actually referring to our nature as human.

        The key to it should probably be taken from the next line, Emmanuel = God with us, rather than another text IMO. That would be the source of a meaning that resonates from “as one, with us.”

        All of these versions are somewhat clunky, striving to match rhythm and then sense. It is hard to match all the possibilities in the original, and probably even harder to know if one should.

  17. I don’t mind the editor of a hymnal changing one or two words here or there, so much. It’s annoying when they omit entire verses; Baptist hymnals, for example, frequently leave out the second verse of Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence, probably because of the line “he will give to all the faithful / his own self for heavenly food.”

    I mind far more, say, the music director changing lyrics, as that can get into issues of copyright infringement which are messy for a parish. We’re dealing with some of that now.

    I mind far more people changing words to the liturgy in an ad hoc manner — “blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord,” during the Sanctus et Benedictus is one in particular which used to drive me batty. We can’t refer to the One (Jesus) by a pronoun now, apparently.

  18. Vouchsafe Thy flock hitherto happy harbor with Thee, O Lord, that all who art Thine shant ascend to the gibbet of Thine Enemy’s lies and deception, nor descend as hoarfrost upon the footpath that leadeth to inferno.

    You should see the number of spell check lines!
    Happy New Year Xavier Rindfleisch.

  19. The use of thy and thou like dost and art are products of the English of a particular era. For a very long time, people didn’t think they could just change them on their own authority. The bishops did consider introducing modern language into the Lord’s prayer but got beat back by those among them who thought even they had no power to change them. They also expressed a fear that it would disturb the popular piety of people who learned these prayers as children. Yet Jesus did not use either thy or thou or dost and art. Some of the approved translations of the gospels use contemporary English with no apparent harm to anyone. In my parish we have had the local custom of concluding the prayers of intercession by praying the Hail Mary. It’s benevolent custom begun in England under Cardinal Hume. We use modern English and most of the people echo the newer language while others cling to the older ones. No harm, no foul. I am very much in favor of changing hymns to reflect modern English where it does not violence to the meaning of the text.

    1. @Fr. Jack Feehily:
      “I am very much in favor of changing hymns to reflect modern English where it does not do violence to the meaning of the text.”
      But that involves altering the verse of some towering religious lyricists, such as Charles Wesley and Isaac Watts. Such revisions make me think of the work of Daniele da Volterra, the “breeches painter” who covered over the genitalia in Michelangelo’s “Last Judgment.” The difference in quality between the revisers’ work and that of Charles Wesley or Michelangelo can be all too plain.
      The Our Father and the Hail Mary are a totally different story. They’re translations. There are advantages to both old and new versions, and it’s (I think) a purely pastoral decision which to use.

    2. @Fr. Jack Feehily:
      Perhaps someone can correct me, but I was under the impression that (at the time) “thee,” “thy,” etc. were the more informal, personal usage, which at least puts the nature of the prayer into perspective. Modern English has no built-in formal/informal division when it comes to pronouns (at least). Oddly enough, I suppose, to modern ears, “thee,” “thy,” etc. sound more formal.

    3. @Fr. Jack Feehily:

      In my parish we have had the local custom of concluding the prayers of intercession by praying the Hail Mary. It’s benevolent custom begun in England under Cardinal Hume.

      Data point: It was begun at the insistence of Archbishop George Patrick Dwyer of Birmingham in 1971 (the then cardinal in Westminster was Heenan) who was then chair of the National Liturgy Commission of England and Wales. His rationale was that, if the Hail Mary was not included somewhere in the Mass, people would forget how to say it. He overlooked the fact that the (vernacular) Our Father had never been in the Mass until 1966, and yet people hadn’t forgotten how to say that prayer.

      The Bishops of England and Wales were told, twice, by Rome to cease the practice. They ignored the Congregation. One may wonder why they did not also ignore the Congregation on other more recent matters…

  20. It’s almost non-existent in Ireland. Certainly more honoured in the breach than the observance. I’ve never heard it read aloud anywhere here.

  21. I’ve always found it interesting that in using “thee” and “thou” God is being spoken to in the least formal, most familiar language. It brings me up short and gets me thinking when I hear “Tu” in the liturgy in France.
    Being an old curmudgeon I think that a simple of sentence of explanation about the various meaning of “Man” is better than messing with a text. What’s wrong with a bit of education, anyway?

    1. @Alan Johnson:

      I’ve always found it interesting that in using “thee” and “thou” God is being spoken to in the least formal, most familiar language. It brings me up short and gets me thinking when I hear “Tu” in the liturgy in France.

      The use of the intimate 2nd person singular to address God is in marked contrast to the use of the more formal 2nd person plural in the French text of the Hail Mary. That has always seemed strange to me.

      1. @Paul Inwood, #48:
        Perhaps the Hail Mary, at least for the French, is addressed to Mary as not only Mother of God, but as Queen of Heaven, hence the formality, whereas the Lord’s Prayer is addressed to “Our Father.” In English, however, both are in the informal 2nd person singular (traditionally). The Salve Regina in English is also in the informal 2nd person singular, however, so apparently the English desired to separate themselves from their Norman brethren. 😉

  22. Paul Inwood : @Alan Johnson: I’ve always found it interesting that in using “thee” and “thou” God is being spoken to in the least formal, most familiar language. It brings me up short and gets me thinking when I hear “Tu” in the liturgy in France. The use of the intimate 2nd person singular to address God is in marked contrast to the use of the more formal 2nd person plural in the French text of the Hail Mary. That has always seemed strange to me.

    Didn’t know about the Hail Mary, since the French have the sense not to use it during Mass.

  23. I hate to take this thread off track from the discussion of inclusive language, but perhaps you will forgive me, since it follows on the discussion of the Hail Mary. (I have fond memories of the Je vous salue Marie which I learned in high school French class.) Our parochial vicar is from El Salvador. He always turns to the statue of the Blessed Mother after the final blessing and prays the Hail Mary. Does anyone know if that is a custom in Central and South America?

  24. I’ve seen a number of places around the world where Mass is concluded by turning to an image of Mary and singing one of the Marian antiphons (e.g. Salve Regina). Maybe this is the “low Mass” version of this.

  25. This Epiphany hymn presents both a theological and a literary dilemma. The text has been altered manifold times to reduce the instances of “man”, yet it is gauche to change the last line which is repeated at the end of each verse and plays cleverly with “man” and “manifest”.
    “Songs of thankfulness and praise,
    Jesus, Lord, to thee we raise,
    manifested by the star
    to the sages from afar;
    branch of royal David’s stem
    in thy birth at Bethlehem;
    anthems be to thee addressed,
    God in man made manifest.”

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